


This charming man

by arq



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Farm/Ranch, Alternate Universe - No Powers, M/M, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 16:09:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/800604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arq/pseuds/arq
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve just wanted a ride to the bus stop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	This charming man

The sun is hot against his neck and and dust billows up with every step he takes on the dirt road. It hasn't rained for weeks and he knows his father is concerned about the harvest. Steve is more concerned about getting a sunburn and missing the bus. The beginning of May has always been like this, as far back as he can remember. The bicycle isn't very heavy to drag next to him, even with the punctured wheel making it uncooperative, but he still contemplates leaving it. The bus only goes once every two hours on Sundays. He's relieved when he picks up the sound of a motor running in the distance.

  
The car is some sleek, black, sporty thing that looks both too expensive and too impractical to belong here. He can't for the life of him imagine what someone would be doing out here in a car like that, but it stops.  
The window glides down and a man in dark sunglasses leans out the window.  
"You need a lift, kid?", he asks.  
"Yes please", he answers, leaving his bicycle on the side of the road and walks around to the passenger seat. The interior of the car is shiny and modern looking, even more so than the outside. It smells of leather. The man in the drivers seat looks at him with a small smile. He's wearing a suit but his hair looks like he just woke up. It's a strange combination. He's taken off the sunglasses.  
"Where to?", he asks.  
"The bus stop, almost at the end of this road", he says. "If you don't mind."  
"No problem", the other man says and starts the car again. It's not very far, but the winding dust road with it's pits and bumps limits their speed.  
"You live here, kid?", the man asks him and yes, he is older, probably in his early thirties, but Steve still takes a little bit offence at that.  
"I do", he says. "And it's Steve." The man laughs, but it seems well intended.  
"Nice to meet you, Steve", he says. "I'm Tony."  
"Nice to meet you as well", Steve says.  
"So what do you do, Steve?", Tony asks him. He can't even remember the last time someone asked him that question and he is a little bit thrown back by it.  
"I work at the farm, I guess", he offers.  
"Yeah? How does one start working at a farm?", Tony asks him. His eyes are fixed on the road, tone a little bit distant.  
"Well, it's my parents farm so...", Steve answers and it's weird. It's weird because he doesn't think he's ever had to explain that before. His high school was made up by the kids who's parents were farmers, the kids who's parents worked at the mill and then the few kids who's parents did something else. You always knew which group someone belonged to. Tony hums in response, still keeping his eyes at the road.  
"What brings you here?", Steve asks instead. "No offence, but I can tell you're not a local." There's a smile at the corner of his mouth. Steve is somewhat aware that he's barely taken his eyes of the other man since he got in the car. His mind does this strange thing where it becomes overly self-aware for a few moments and then calms down. Yes, the man is handsome. Yes, he noticed. So what?  
"Oh, business", Tony answers. "Boring. Tell me more about you instead."  
"Like what?", Steve asks. Is this how strangers usually talk? He can't be sure, but he thinks it might not be.  
"I don't know", Tony shrugs in the driver seat. "What do you do when you're not doing farm stuff?"  
"I draw", he answers immediately. It's not the only thing he does, but it's the only one that feels like something he is rather than just does.  
"Yeah? Are you any good?"  
"I guess", he offers because it's a question he's never been able to answer.

 

"So where does the bus go?", Tony asks him as he stops the car next to the bus stop.  
"In to town", Steve says. "Greenwood."  
"You know, that's where I'm going", Tony says. "I could just drive you." It's tempting to say yes. The bus will be slow and hot. Tony is charming and Steve rather likes talking to him, strange as it may be. But it seems rude. The man offering him a lift hardly makes him his private chauffeur.  
"You don't have to do that", he answers. Tony lets out the same quiet, gentle laugh as before.  
"I know I don't. But I'm offering to", he says.  
"Okay then", Steve nods. "If there's no hassle."

Then Tony leans over him, opening the glove compartment. He takes out a small pill bottle, takes one of the pills and puts the bottle back. He's close enough that Steve can smell his cologne, warm shoulder pressing against him and Steve forgets to breathe. Tony's fingers brushes against his thigh as he leans back and Steve immediately looks at his hand. There's a small cut on it that's halfway through healing and a few small scars in various states of fading. He wonders where they came from.  
His gaze lingers and apparently the other man notices, giving him a knowing look and a smile that suggests amusement. Is he really that obvious?  
Thankfully, Tony just starts the car and doesn't comment on Steve's staring.

"So who's the lucky girl?", Tony asks, abruptly, a small nod indicating the ring on his left hand. The pang of guilt in his stomach is immediate at the reminder of his fiancee, who really deserves better than him oogling strange men, however enthralling they may be.  
"Her name is Peggy", he answers. Sweet, delightful Peggy, with her soft hands and sharp mind. Peggy who's off at college in Chicago, Peggy who's going places, Peggy who's hoping for a spring wedding. He's a terrible person.  
"High school sweetheart?" He doesn't want to talk about this, anything but this, but he doesn't know how to change the subject without being impolite to Tony, who is after all giving him a lift and who probably has no idea of the emotional minefield he stumbled in to.  
"Yes", he simply says.  
"And does she know?"  
"Knows what?", he asks, feigning ignorance. Tony tilts his head and gives him a look.  
"Oh honey", he says and Steve feels himself blush. He looks out the window instead and sees the familiar fields roll by. He bites his lower lip, considering.  
"No", he finally says. "I don't think she does." The man grins at him.  
"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"

During the next thirty minutes he tells Tony about his time in the army and the knee injury that forced him out of it, about his plans of applying for college in the fall, about his favorite painters, about his work on the farm, about his friends from high school and how most of them have moved away from here by now, even about how his parents met. In return he learns very little about Tony, who talks a lot but says little of substance. He prefers Magritte to Monet and scoffs at Picasso. He's staying in the area for two days. He's never seen a cow in real life before today and had imagined them to be smaller.

  
He stops the car outside Gary's diner. Steve thanks him for the ride, offers to pay for half the gas and receives an eye roll in response.  
"Can I borrow your cellphone?", Tony asks when Steve is already out of the car.  
"Sure", Steve says and hands it over. Tony's finger sweep over the display and then some rock song that he recognizes but don't know the title of start playing. Tony gives him a mischievous look.  
"I figured you might want my number", he says. "In case you need another ride." It's Steve raise his eyebrows because really, he's not that oblivious. "Or, you know, if you want to have coffee with me."  
"I'm engaged", he answers. Tony gives him a smile that seems downright dangerous.

"Return the ring."

**Author's Note:**

> Last sentence is blatantly stolen from the song which inspired this fic (This charming man, by The Smiths).


End file.
